Wednesday, March 20, 2013

A lot can happen in a year. Last year this time, I was in a deep emotional
quagmire over a relationship in which I found myself involved that was neither
healthy nor nurturing. I knew that he was taking advantage of me but
couldn't pull myself out of it, in spite of pleading from my closest friends.
It wasn't until I met someone else that I saw what I was doing to myself through his eyes. That
other person turned out not to be a "romantic interest" (much to my chagrin, but in hindsight for the best) but
more the catalyst for me to finally see how following the path I was on was
getting me nowhere fast.

When I think about where I am today with my outlook on life, it amazes me that the thought of finding someone to spend my
"right now" with has been trumped by thoughts of finding someone with which to
spend my "ever after". I believe that gone are my days of
casual, pretend-relationships where I was fully aware they are short-term in
nature, but yet refused to accept or believe that until they self-combusted. I
think those times when my heart felt broken and busted into tiny shards, it was
because I was most hurt by the person closest to me: myself.

In my 20s and 30s,
I jumped from one inappropriate man to another even more inappropriate
man, not realizing what sort of damage I was self-inflicting. For this,
I've paid the price: physically and emotionally. The mere thought of how
much time I've wasted makes me a little bit sad, but wallowing on the sins of
the past does nothing to ease the present or set the stage for the future.

There's a song by the Mowgli's, an energetic and vibrant LA-based band
introduced to me by my equally vibrant sister. The song is called
"San Francisco" & the opening verse says this:

"I’ve been in love with love
And the idea of something binding us together
You know that love is strong enough"

How poignant...to
be in love, with the idea of love. An ideal notion that love conquers all
your woes. Indeed, that was true in my case. I was playing at love in order to
ease whatever ache I was feeling inside. In reality though, I was doing a
disservice to myself. No amount of play-love could cure what ailed me. I
was treating a chronic disease with placebos when what I needed was medicine
for my soul.

I read something recently in Proverbs 3:3 that stuck out to me:

"Let love and faithfulness never leave you; bind them around your neck, write
them on the tablet of your heart."

I took that passage to mean Love of God; in turn, Love of Self.
In my view, to love God is to love yourself enough to put complete Faith in Him
and trust that He will guide you down the right path. Don't try and go it
alone, as you may find yourself going down the wrong way on a one-way street,
towards a very grumpy cop. No one wants that.

If you had asked me a year ago how I felt about God and spirituality, I
would have given you a very honest and academic answer: "I believe in a
higher power, and that my relationship with that power is mine
alone." And although I still believe this to be true, I think that
notion is very shallow and not at all satisfying. Much like the relationships
I've had with all those inappropriate men. Going through this process of redefining what my spirituality means to me has served the very important purpose of redefining what I mean to myself. I am special, in the eyes of the Lord and beyond. I must respect myself in order to find that person who will respect me and treat me well.

Sitting in the café across the street, eyeing people as they
walked through the open doors of the building I had passed 1000 times before, I
could feel a little bit of anxiety building up in my chest and sneaking its way
up my throat.Why was I so nervous?It’s just Church.I used to go to Church all the time.It’s not like I was going into a stranger’s
house.

Or was it?Church is,
after all, the Lord’s house.But was He
really a stranger?Aside from the random
wedding, baptism, funeral or Holiday service I had not been a regular
Churchgoer since 1986.I became a confirmed
Catholic in 1984, and slowly began to pull away from the Church after
that.Call it teenage rebellion or just
plain apathy, I decided at the time there was no place for it.That is not to say I didn’t maintain an open
channel to God (you can read my previous blog to get the lowdown on that.)However, I have decided that at this point in
my life that channel needs to be a two-way tributary; I want to make more room
in my life to give my spiritual beliefs room to grow.I don’t want the Lord to be a stranger to me
anymore.

So on a blustery yet sunny Sunday morning I took a deep
breath, gathered my belongings, threw my half-consumed latte into the bin and
made my way across the street and through the open doors, feeling very much
like I used to feel on the first day of school.A myriad of thoughts circled in my head: Will they like me?Will I make any friends?Will I know what to do?

I’m not sure what I was expecting, but what I saw was kind
of cool: smiling people milling about in the lobby, welcoming folks into the Service,
shaking hands and freely giving hugs.A
young woman welcomed me and handed me a pamphlet, which I perused after taking
my seat in the last row.Although I was
game, I was still timid.

I looked up just in time to see the band take the
stage.They took up the entire stage.

Wait…where’s the altar?Where’s the pulpit?I’m so
confused.

Downbeat happened at about 9:05.Yes, downbeat.Was I at Church or the Crocodile?

More confusion set in but I just decided to roll with it.

Attendees stood up en masse to join in on the festivities;
yes, it was like a party was happening right there.No pomp and circumstance, no procession down
the aisle, no smell of incense wafting in the air.Some
sang along; others reached their hands up towards the ceiling in prayer.From my position on the aisle in the
back row, I could see a petite Asian woman in the front, about my Mom’s age, in
a purple outfit topped with sparkles; arms extended upwards dancing along to
the beat.I smiled.She was so….free.

About the third song in, a youngish guy in a car-length wool
coat, with a hoodie and blue jeans underneath took the stage and introduced
himself as the Campus Pastor.The music
never stopped, but he invited the crowd to take the opportunity to introduce
themselves to each other and welcome visitors into the Church.The woman next to me smiled and extended her
hand, as did her husband.The gentleman
across the aisle stepped over and shook my hand as well.I took a deep breath and started to relax.

The music continued…these were not traditional Hymns or
prayers.These were foot stomping,
dance-worthy pop songs.My confusion
subsided as I started to take everything in and just accept the fact that my
idea of Church to this point, was not in play.This was different.Most
different was the fact this Church building was just one of three that were
networked together.The officiating Pastor
was actually in another town, but his sermon was broadcast to our
location.He, at least, was not wearing
a hoodie.

His sermon was fascinating.He preached about Luke 19:1-10; Jesus Comes to Zacchaeus’ House.I’ve read this before, but what I never had
the benefit of was someone teaching me what it meant to me.This is something I believe a lot of people
struggle with, regardless of denomination.How does the Bible apply to us in our modern-day lives?Sitting there, listening to the Pastor speak
poetically to the story and its current application was probably the singlemost
enlightening moment I have had on this journey thus far.It was enough to make me want to be there,
and more importantly make me want to return there.

When the service was over, I looked at the clock and astonished
at how much time had passed – it was already 10:30AM.As I walked out of the building an hour and a
half after entering, a smile crept across my face for I knew I would be back
again very soon.

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

"Only in quiet waters things mirror themselves undistorted. Only in a quiet mind is adequate perception of the world." - Hans Margolius

They say perception is 9/10 reality. I think that may have been true before the advent of Facebook and Twitter, but nowadays, perception is truly what you make of it. You can say what you want in the virtual world, create whatever personae you wish to be, but that may not be a reflection of true life. How many times do you hear tales of online scams and internet paramours taking advantage of innocent and desperate people? I myself was once almost a victim of such a scam, but fortunately realized I was being snookered before any money changed hands. It's so easy to get taken in by the perception that the person on the other end of the virtual wire has intentions that are good and pure.

I hate to tell you, but as altruistic as Bill Gates is, he's not just handing out money to random strangers for passing on an email to their ten closest friends. He would be broke several times over by now if that were truly the case. I work in a place where I often receive complaints from recipients of these phishing mails...mostly from concerned citizens who know it's a scam, but occasionally from hapless souls who are desperate for the money, and want so badly for it to be true. Those are the ones I feel for as they will likely fall prey to evil intentions.

In this modern age of social networking, we are flooded with information to which we may not have had access before (i.e. what are your friends having for dinner; where are they having dinner; and with whom are they having dinner?). This trove of information in turn, begs the question:

Why?

Why is that information important to know? Is it a natural human desire for attention? Perhaps in some cases. I know I'll tag myself in places or with people as I know it will strike up a conversation or invite some sort of reaction from others. I also do it out of boredom, particularly if I'm alone and have no one to converse with face to face. The internet is a great place to reach out to your community (real or imagined) and feel connected. It's that connection with other people that keeps us engaged with life. It's why I refresh my Facebook feed 39 times a day. It's why I scroll through Twitter when I'm bored at work. It's even why I write this blog: to reach out and touch someone.

On the flip side though...it's still a bunch of noise. Loud, staticky noise. Which bring me to the quote at the top of this blog:

"Only in a quiet mind is adequate perception of the world."

With so much noise these days, can we really expect that everything we perceive is reality? We are constantly inundated with information at a speed with which our feeble minds may not be able to accurately process. I know for myself, I tend to over-analyze the more information I have thrown at me, and that my perception of reality occasionally does not match up to the real deal. My view can easily get distorted and until I have clarity, I can believe that which may not be true. And being the intelligent person I am, I tell myself not to read too much into things that I see online, but my instinct to believe that which I see often overpowers common sense. And I know I'm not alone.. we have all been guilty of that. It's just the way we are programmed as humans. We want to believe what we see; the good, the bad and the ugly, because if we can't rely on visual perception what can we rely on? As a species, we have not evolved extra-sensory perception, so we have no choice but to initially believe what we see. We need to learn to condition ourselves to allow common sense to step in and ask the question: "Is it real?"

That's not to say we should go around doubting everything and not trusting people. On the contrary, one thing the internet had also done is allow us to peak into people's lives and see what they are about. Some tend to use Facebook and Twitter as a sounding board, an avenue to vent, which is fine as long as you don't go too far with it. But realizing you may be looking at - or even through - a filter will go a long way to quiet the noise in your mind.

I'm
hot and cold with my writing...sometimes it flows like a mighty river after a
spring thaw; other times it is as hard to come by as rain in the midst of a desert
drought. Clearly, I am in need of wellies these days!

Anytime
you put yourself out there, there is a risk it will change peoples' perception
of you. At a certain point though, you have to learn not to care. In my quest
for personal growth and healing, I am learning that to keep my faith strong
inside, I have to take risks and allow my light to shine outward. Matthew
5:16 states “Let your light so
shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify our
Father which is in heaven.”

Maybe
I'm misinterpreting the meaning, but for me I've felt for a long time as if
I've kept a piece of myself inside, buried deep in the back of my closet,
running perilously close to not seeing the light of day again. One day, I
decided I'd had enough of diving through mountains of clothes, bags of scarfs
and boxes of purses, just to find the one, bright shiny item I needed for a
special occasion. Tossing the excess baggage aside, I organized and
catalogued every keep-worthy piece until the closet shone bright and new, a joy
to behold!

And
then I looked over and realized the toss pile is stacked high to the ceiling,
with no place to call home. If I don't discard these items, I run the risk of
burying my precious shiny pieces again. Likewise, if I don't deal with
what is keeping my light from shining, it will once again be buried deep in the
back.

Sunday, March 10, 2013

But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, 1 Peter 3:15

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately.

Thinking about work, about love, about family. Mostly though, I've been thinking about God and my relationship with Him.

In times of strife, one often turns to God for help. Help in the form of guidance, protection, or a miracle. Having been baptized and confirmed Catholic, I grew up with a strong sense of spirituality, but had an omnipresent hesitation towards the Religion. In my teen years, I started to pull away from the Church - largely out of rebellion towards my parents, who were trying to force me down that path even after my Confirmation, but I saw no point in it. Eventually they gave up trying, and I gave up caring.

As I got older, I began to realize that some of my hesitation was directed toward what I felt was the hypocritical a-la-carte approach to the Faith, by many Catholics who called themselves "practicing" but in reality were picking and choosing what was convenient for them. Midnight Mass was in the same bucket as baking Christmas cookies and decorating the tree - a nice Christmas tradition to do with the kids every year and an excuse to show off the Christmas dresses.

I'm sorry, but what about every other Sunday in the year? One thing I know is that to be in the Lord's favor you need to live, breath and set example through your Faith and the Tenants of that Faith as directed by Church leaders. Going to Church once a year didnt cut it; as a Catholic, I was (at a minimum) expected to go to Mass and take Communion on a weekly basis (more often during Lent) and serve Penance monthly. My youthful observation that others didnt take that seriously didnt sit well with me but rather than leading by example, I walked away altogether.

That being said...I still maintained a strong sense of spirituality that serves me till today. Case in point:

I was 24 and at one of the lowest points in my life when I went hiking one night at sunset to the top of Camelback Mountain in Phoenix. I was two years out of college and had moved cross-country to work in the exciting world of politics. It's a long story but I lost that job after my boss was indicted on embezzlement charges and didnt think I had any other prospects. My first inclination was to run home to mom and dad. I was all set to go, but I kept feeling this sense of failure.

I got to the top of the mountain and looked out over the Valley and the tears started flowing. I honestly didnt know what to do. I looked up at the sky, with the stars coming out, and said out loud "Lord, please help me. Please guide me to the right decision. I'm putting my life in your hands because I dont know what else to do." It was getting late so I hiked back down the mountain and went home. The next morning I woke up feeling this strong sense of peace and the knowledge that I couldnt leave; I had to stay. Long story short, I went out and found myself gainful employment, and remained in Phoenix for three more years until leaving under my own steam.

Since then, my Faith has seen me through....a fact not lost on me but one that I havent embraced until recently.

At the suggestion of a friend, I have been reading scripture; specifically Proverbs. I've started at 1 and am currently on 18. It's taking me awhile to get through each one as I find myself thirsty for spiritual knowledge and reading them over and again so I can absorb as much of the meaning as possible. In these days of personal "complications", I am finding comfort in the Word. I am finding a sense of warmth and security I hadnt had before. And I am finding my way Home.

Further to my previous blog, I thought I would take a moment to document a fortunate episode that happened to me on a recent trip to London.

About 7 years ago, I was in a relationship with R. We were prepared for marriage and spending the rest of our lives together. He was my first real love, and "adult relationship." I loved him and he loved me. We were compatible on so many different levels, and incompatible on others. I let the latter get the best of me, and opted to wait on Ever After. Unfortunately, that meant R - a citizen of the UK - would have to return to England after his US visa ran out. We agreed it wouldnt be a long separation; he could still visit me, and I him, and within a year we would get it sorted so we could be together. Alas, the physical distance between us quickly led to emotional distance and after a brief phone call one Saturday afternoon, we parted ways. We reached out to each other on occasion, but as in many other similar scenarios we eventually stopped corresponding altogether.

R was never far from my mind though. I thought of him often, and regarded him as the "one who got away." It was during one of those "I wonder whatever happened to..." moments early one Spring morning that curiosity got the best of me and I sought out his Facebook page. R was never a frequent social networker so it hadnt struck me as odd that I hadnt seen him online in awhile. The first post I saw was from his friend, and left me in shock:

"Praying your soul rests in peace and our memories of you stay alive in our thoughts and hearts forever. You will be missed."What??No...it couldnt be!I read on:

"I'm in shock and deeply saddened. You were a shining star in this world and will be missed by many.""You will be missed dearly man. God Bless your soul""Rest in Peace"He was...dead? How could that happen?! Shock faded to tears and I immediately got up and called my sister. She didnt know what to say; she hadnt seen or heard anything about R in 4 years...what could she say but "I'm sorry, Beth."I needed answers...but he and I didnt have any mutual friends in common anymore. I went through his Friends list and found a name I recognized as a family friend whom he had spoken of often. I sent her a message, explaining who I was and asked her what had happened. to him She responded almost immediately and explained that he had passed on due to some sort of infection. She had more information she wanted to share with me over the phone, but we never did connect. I just continued on...living my life, occasionally succumbing to moments of sadness, usually manifesting in a deep sigh and a temporary fleeting thought "I wonder what would have happened had we stayed together? Would I be a widow? Would he still be alive had I been around to take care of him?" I'm smart enough to know his passing was not my fault, but still...I wondered.Jump ahead two years to last month: I traveled to London to join my brother and his family on their vacation from Italy. R's family friend saw mention of my trip on Facebook and asked if we could meet. I said yes; that would be lovely. We went for lunch near Hampstead Heath - a quaint British pub that had a photo of the Queen Mum on the wall, pulling a pint. We exchanged stories about R...how she came to know him and his family, and watched him grow from a young boy. She shared with me about how he used to talk about me...how she knew he was quite fond of me. And she mentioned how it seemed to her that after our split, he never seemed to find anyone else he could love as he loved me.When I heard this, I didnt know what to think. I was confused. Should I feel guilty? Should I have worked harder to make the relationship survive? Then I realized...this is what closure looks like. This is an opportunity for me to finally close the chapter on that part of my life and to open myself up to other possibilities. Of course, I've often felt I was open (reference prior blog) but I dont think I really was, which I realize in hindsight may explain some of my bad luck (and bad choices) with men. I came home from that trip feeling elated...feeling that finally I could seize whatever opportunity presented itself, and that maybe I can just own up to my feelings towards a certain someone. Unfortunately, my timing was off and it was too late to have that conversation with him. I was devastated, and am still upset about the situation, but what can I do?I believe in my heart that if God sees fit, he will set me on the path to finding another true love. As they say, when the Lord closes one door, he opens another. And I am anxiously waiting to walk through.

That's what he said. Immediately after declaring he was in love with me, he finished his thought with that bombshell. There was no "but" conjoining the two sentences; making them two separate - polar opposite - powerful statements.

I couldn't even begin to understand what he meant. But I knew this much was true: once again, I was hitting a brick wall at 100MPH.

Over the years, I've often wondered how much abuse one heart can take: how many times a heart can be broken and expected to heal. The scenario above isn't the most recent but it's one of the more poignant. I've heard everything; mostly ridiculous excuses from men who are too chicken shit to admit they aren't brave enough to take me on. I'm the inconvenient one. The one with the "good energy", "the big heart" or "the sharp mind"; but I'm never the pretty one, the one who gets the guy she wants. Someone actually said to me not long ago: "Only skinny girls get the guys they want."

Ouch.

Let's face it...I will *never* be skinny. I don't want to be skinny. Skinny wouldn't look good on my larger frame. I'm descended from peasants and poor nobility; we don't do skinny in my family line (unless you are a fortunate recipient of the recessive "princess" gene, like my sister). In any event, admittedly, I could be in better shape and trust me...I'm trying to get there. But in the meantime, I look in the mirror and I don't see an ugly face. I don't see someone who isn't worthy of love (not that anyone is unworthy....everyone should have someone who loves them). I have a pretty good sense of style, Im smart and can maintain a witty banter. Why am I constantly left out in the cold?

The answer should be obvious but I'm still unwilling to accept it: I'm swimming in the wrong pool. The problem is the guys I like are younger, a little left of center and still care about having a good time and not rolling it up after sunset. The only problem with those guys is they want the pretty girls who make them look good. Being older and more established, I may as well be walking around with a big "Danger" sign around my neck. If you want to be with me, you have to be willing to jump into the deep end of the pool. I'm ready to get married and have children. That can be repellent for some younger men who may not be in such a rush.

In the most recent scenario, I can only blame myself for my broken heart. It's not his fault. He didnt know. I was too scared to tell him because I cared for him too much and didnt want to risk losing him from my life. And now...even if I wanted to, it would be too late. He's found someone else, and she isnt me. She bears zero resemblance to me, and makes me think even entertaining for a nanosecond he would have ever reciprocated my feelings was just foolish and trivial on my part. I want to channel the anger and resentment I feel right at him, but I can't. It's all on me this time. And that hurts more than anything. Which begs the obvious question....what am I going to do about it?

"Some may say, I'm wishing my days away"

That song is playing on the overhead right now. Maybe that's true...wishing, hoping and praying that my ideal will come along and rescue me. The truth is, if I cant rescue myself, what point is there to any of it?

And so the personal growth continues...

###

The song has ended and this one has taken its place:

"Someday. Someway. Maybe I'll understand you."

Yes, Self, maybe I will understand you someday. Until then, let's just muddle through with a beat-up heart, shaky legs and fortitude strong enough to make it to tomorrow. A brand new day indeed.